Homeward Bound
by CalonLan
Summary: It is 1192, the year of our Lord, Jesus Christ, and following the tragic events of the Templars' recklessness just outside the Gates of Acre, young Robin, Baron of Locksley seeks comfort in talks of warfare, wine and women with his king, Richard.


It was nightfall in Acre when the captain of the King's guard rode into the camp with the men following closely behind. By now, the sun had disappeared over the valleys and had been replaced by a white orb which hung high in the sky and cast an eerie glow over the cold sands of Jerusalem. The unbearable heat that the land suffered throughout the day had now dropped to below freezing point and the captain, who was sat firmly on his destrier, thanked God for his heavy hauberk and thick mantle that kept him warm at night. The Earl of Huntingdon, the young man that had been granted the privilege of commanding the King's own private guard, led the troop into the camp where they dismounted, tossed the reins to the awaiting squires and then sought the banqueting tent for food, wine and comfort. He gave the command that any wounded men should go to the hospital immediately where the hospitaller knights would tend to them.

Robin, the Earl of Huntingdon and Baron of Locksley, was the last knight to dismount. He handed over the reins of his powerful charger to his squire, Much, and then commanded that he go to the tent to find himself food and wine once he had covered his destrier with a blanket. Much obeyed at once and left the young earl alone in the camp to his own thoughts.

Locksley paced the sands of the camp for several moments before stopping suddenly and looking up into the sky helplessly. Why wasn't God on their side? He thought before lashing out at the nearest water barrel in temper and frustration. He quickly dipped his hands into the barrel, cupped the water in his palms and soaked his weather-beaten face. He sobered immediately and hurried off in the direction of the King's tent, only pausing to show the guards the signet ring of the Locksley seal on his third finger on his right hand before being granted access.

Locksley stormed into the King's tent.

"Your Grace, Robin of Locksley is without, he asks that you grant him an audience." One of the King's guards spoke.

"Granted. Bring him in." Came Richard's thick French accent from inside the tent.

The tent covers were jerked back with a violence that spun all heads around. Locksley strode into the tent and, ignoring the other captains and men of Richard's company; he addressed himself to the King with a complete disregard for preamble or protocol and halted in front of Richard.

"Sire…" Locksley started, his voice breaking. His face was flushed red and the King knew that the young man was on the verge of losing his temper. His captain's hands were clenched in balls of rage, the left hand clutching the hilt of his sword. His eyes were burning with anger and his shoulders shook violently.

"My Lord of Huntingdon, what is it that you have to say to me?" The King asked seriously, almost afraid to hear the news that his captain brought for he was afraid that his troops were failing against the vast armies of the devout Muslim Prince, Şalāḩ ad-Dīn Yūsuf ibn Ayyūb.

"The Templar, Your Grace…" He was shaking violently with rage and he struggled to find the words to tell his royal master of the tragedy that had unfolded before him.

The King of England considered Locksley for a long moment before getting to his feet and took two long majestic strides towards the younger man that was standing stock still in front of him. He put a strong hand onto Locksley's shoulder and gripped him hard. He then said calmly in Norman-French, "Tell me, lad, what has happened?" His voice was calm and reassuring and Locksley found himself able to control his body and able to deliver the news to the King. "Tell me."

Locksley took a deep breath and, although his rage was about to wash over him any second, he steadied his breathing and finally looked his King in the eyes.

King Richard was but two and thirty and still as handsome as ever. His eyes were the steel cold blue of the true Vikings, his hair gold and shining, and his complexion pale. He towered over most of his men for he was above average height, six foot and five inches some said, but that did nothing to reassure Robin that his master would not rage at the news he brought. "Thomas led the Templar into a Saracen village just outside the gates of Acre, it was heavily manned with Saracen archers and…and-…" his voice broke off, unable to reveal what had happened.

"-And they shot him?" The King finished calmly.

Locksley nodded in confirmation.

The King frowned and Robin was aware of the Angevin temper rising within his liege lord. Richard rubbed his brow and said, "You had not given him the orders to lead the charge?"

"Of course I did not!" Robin cried indignantly. "Thomas had been collaborating with the Templar; it seems that they had formed some sort of fraternity, that he had undertaken Templar vows. He led the charge into the village; I told him that it was too dangerous, that a cavalry of mounted knights would not win against Turkish archers, he did not listen."

"And how many were killed with him?"

"At least ten Templar Knights, my lord."

The King nodded before dropping back into his chair and putting his head into his large hands. After a few moments of thought, he lifted his head from his hands and said, "What other news was there of the charge?"

Robin sighed before saying through gritted teeth, "They reached the village before the gates, took it with fire and sword, plundered the houses, and massacred the men and-…" he broke off, his anger evident for every one in the tent to see.

"And what?" King Richard asked loudly. His hands grabbed at the arms of the chair in anticipation.

"And…and raped the women, my liege."

Richard was too experienced a soldier to be shocked by what had happened. He merely raised an eyebrow and said, "Men of the cross, warrior monks raping women and plundering houses for spoils of war when they are on Crusade for Holy reasons?" The King shook his head in disbelief. "The bastards."

Locksley looked down at the cold sands and nodded in agreement. This Crusade was turning out to be more unholy than it was holy.

"What were their last wishes?" Richard asked in a bored tone while examining his fingernails.

"The other knights died before we reached them, but Thomas's wishes were clear, that he wanted his body to be taken back to England where his family were to receive word that he died a soldier's death, a hero's death."

Richard grunted in acknowledgement. A hero's death, he had died a bloody suicides death! "A hero's death?" he scoffed. "Most Templar Knights wish to die a martyr's death, how glorious. I can assure you, young Robin, there is no glory or martyrdom in dear Thomas's death. It was almost as sinful as suicide; it would not surprise me if his soul should be damned in all eternity for his own stupidity."

Robin noticed the passion in Richard's voice. For all that he pretended to be unmoved by Thomas's sudden recklessness and stupidity, deep down he was grieving.

Thomas had answered the calling of King Richard for knights and soldiers to join him on his glorious Crusade. He had sailed with them to Messina, had been there from the beginning, and Richard had liked him, for he was a passionate fighter and wanted nothing more than to kill unbelievers. But now, he was dead because of a young man's folly, his sheer stupidity in trying to find glory. And what was worse, he had shamed King Richard, had disgraced the Crusaders name, and the Catholic religion for they had participated in a bloody onslaught that had been neither called for nor just.

"Did you retrieve the bodies?" Richard asked him.

"Yes, Your Grace."

"There is a vessel leaving the Port of Acre in a few days, I shall send the body bearers to England with messages to their families. The Knights will be buried in the Temple Church."

Again, Robin nodded in comprehension.

Richard cleared his throat and waved his hand. The men of his company knew that they were dismissed and without a word, they left one by one, all save Robin, who stood rooted to the spot in front of the King.

"Ah, pour me some wine, lad." Richard said while running a heavily ringed hand through his thick flaxen locks. He then rubbed his wearied face and sighed.

Robin did as he was bid and poured the jug of wine that was next to the King's chair into a goblet. He handed the brimming cup to the King.

"Sire."

"Thank you, my lord." Richard said while swigging from the cup. "Now pour yourself one, and take up a seat next to me." He watched as Robin did so. He smiled at the young lord when he sat down next to the King. All traces of today's events had vanished from the King's weary eyes, but then, Robin reminded himself that news like this was not alien to the King's ears; he had been a military commander for nigh on eighteen years. The King took another deep swig from his cup before saying to Robin, "This is my finest Gascon wine. What do you make of it?"

"It is sweet, Your Grace, much sweeter than Burgundy." Robin said quietly, he had neither the palate nor the fondness for wine, but he said so for the King's sake.

"I have my own vineyards in my duchy of Gascony, and my very own winemakers." He took another swig, swilled it around his mouth before adding, "The best of course."

Robin smiled weakly and took a sip from the cup. He supposed that Richard had had his own winemakers since a very young age for most said that his father, the Old King Henry, his court wine had tasted like vinegar and one sip was enough to turn any mans stomach sour.

"Ah, my young Robin, I can see that today's events have scarred you deeply, it has hurt me too, for I loved Thomas very well, but you have to forget, lad. Surely you have seen enough tragedies on this campaign to know that you must move on and forget."

Robin was taken aback that the King could have read his thoughts like that. "Your Grace," he started, "I…you're right, I have seen enough to not let this affect me, but that is it, I have seen too many tragedies."

"I know you have." The King agreed solemnly while glancing down into his empty wine cup.

"Sire…" Robin started cautiously, averting his eyes to the ground.

"Yes, Robin?"

Locksley shook his head quickly, "Nothing. Forget I was to mention anything…"

"Nay, tell me, lad, I like hearing your thoughts." Richard encouraged him gently as he leaned back in his embroidered chair and crossed his legs leisurely.

Robin flicked his eyes upwards to look at the King. Richard was sat comfortably in his chair, his long legs crossed and his large arms resting on the chair arms, he looked very much like a King of England should look like, a figure of complete idolatry and heroism. Robin pushed on with the question that had been swimming into his thoughts on a regular basis. "Do you think that we will be successful in conquering Jerusalem?"

Locksley expected the King to answer with a definite yes, Richard always being the positive military commander, and was therefore shocked when his King said uneasily, "I cannot tell you for certes, my lord of Huntingdon, but I can tell you that God has not always been with us on this holy Crusade for if he had been, would we still be here fighting this impossible battle?"

Robin looked up at Richard questioningly, unable to answer, but Richard continued with a sigh and a casual wave of the bejewelled hand, "When I was a young lad, I was never intended to inherit the throne, as you well know, it was to go to my father's heir, my older brother, Henry. I was my mother's heir, and I became joint ruler of her duchy of Aquitaine. As the Count of Poitou, I took the cross, just as Phillip of France had done that year at Gisors. Being the Duke of Aquitaine, I had been Phillip's vassal and had spent many years at his court plotting against my father. For years Phillip and I had planned to go on a glorious crusade, to reclaim Jerusalem and put it back in Christian control, and when Pope Gregory had it proclaimed that the capture of Jerusalem was punishment for the sins of Christians, I knew it was time to fulfil my vow as a soldier of the cross. A year before I took the cross, my brother had died of the bloody flux, leaving me as my father's heir. My father died not long after, as you know. Frederick, the Holy Roman Emperor set out with a grand army of a supposed one hundred thousand men, on their journey through Hungary, the Emperor personally asked Prince Geza of Hungary to join them on their Holy venture and the Prince took an army of two thousand men with him." The King paused, frowning as he recollected his thoughts. He continued, "The answer to the Pope's call was magnificent, at the head of the largest Christian contingent was the Holy Roman Emperor, I led my English and Norman armies, and Phillip was in charge of his French army. This Crusade was to be a successful and glorious one. But then Frederick drowned in the River Saleph as he and his armies approached Antioch from Armenia and our luck seemed to deteriorate from there. The German contingent was left leaderless, and many soldiers deserted or committed suicide. The Duke of Swabia was then killed in the siege of Acre, and Leopold of Austria took command of the Imperial forces." The King paused for a second time then scoffed, "But Leopold, as proud as he is, left the Holy Land not long after Acre had surrendered."

Robin quietly watched the King as he retold the misfortunate events of the Crusade. There was no need for Richard to tell Robin this, for he had travelled with the King from the very beginning, from Lyons to Messina, from Messina to Limassol and Limassol to the Holy Land. He remembered that day that the messenger had ridden into their camp with the news that Leopold was to return to his Austrian court because shortly after they had captured Acre, the banners of the Kings of Jerusalem, England and France and the Duke of Austria had been raised and Richard had taken offence that the duke had had the arrogance to raise his, had ordered for it to be removed and had spat on it. But the King continued anyway, "Dysentery and fever claimed the lives of many soldiers, including that of Theobold of Blois, one of Phillip's vassals. From the beginning Phillip was in ill-health and he decided to leave with Leopold. I was left all on my own with but ten thousand of Phillip's French soldiers at my command and my own English armies." He took a deep breath. "This Holy venture has been cursed from the moment we set foot on this land. No one can deny that we won great victory at Messina and Cyprus, and selling Cyprus to the Templars had put money in my coffers, but what have we achieved here, Robin? All we have achieved is Acre and Arsuf and we are no closer to capturing Jerusalem than what we were when we first arrived!" The King looked almost angry, but he waited for Robin to contradict him, to tell him that their campaign had gone well, that they had done all that they could and that Jerusalem would soon fall into Christian control. Kings like Richard were always complimented and told that all was well by their captains and vassals, but Locksley never told his sovereign nothing but the truth.

"What you say is right, Your Grace, in all the time that we have been here we have achieved nothing but Arsuf and Acre, and it is likely that Jerusalem will not fall into our hands sometime soon for although you, sire, are a great military leader, Saladin is also one, and his armies are larger than ours."

The King nodded in agreement while turning his cold gaze on Robin and holding it there. Locksley was too well experienced in Richard's service to blink or recoil under his master's stare; instead, he held his gaze until the King finally broke eye contact and silence. "Do you regret coming?" he questioned his captain, a look of interest and hope on his face.

But Locksley, as urbane as ever, had the perfect answer, "Nay, sire, I serve only the King's pleasure. When you command, I obey."

The King smiled amusedly, but the smile quickly vanished and he said quietly, "Ah, my ever faithful Robin, at home both on the battlefield and at my court, you are a man of the world, a lord, a military commander and a courtier. Now, that was a courtier's answer, give me a commander's answer," he commanded.

"I…" For once, Locksley was lost for words.

Richard interrupted him, "Because I do!"

"Sire?"

"I regret coming, Locksley. I emptied the Royal Treasury to pay for this crusade, the treasury that my father watched with a keen eye for all his reign. Messengers come to me from my mother warning me that my little brother and Phillip of France are plotting to take my kingdom from me, and my men are dying in their thousands, and all we have to show for my victory is Messina, Cyprus – which is now in Templar hands – and Arsuf and Acre. I have not captured Jerusalem, I have failed. We have achieved nothing!"

Robin cast his eyes downwards; he was expert at remaining quiet when Richard went into one of his rages. "It will not be long until Saladin will seek peace."

"And what gives you that idea?"

"Saladin is a devout Muslim, as ruthless as he is, sire, he cannot stand by and watch his countrymen die, after disagreeing to the last treaty of peace, he saw how you retaliated by slaying two and a half thousand men of his faith, he cannot afford to watch men die any longer, he will seek peace soon."

The King nodded and then said, "You claim to know Saladin?"

"Nay, never, but he is not a complex person to understand, sire."

"You are right." Richard said with a deep sigh. There was a long pause then the King asked Locksley quietly, "Do you ever suffer from bad dreams, Robin?"

At first, Robin was taken aback by his master's question, but he found himself answering the question truthfully, regardless of the fact that these were his secrets, his secrets and burdens that he would have to live with for the rest of his life. "Yes, sire, I do. At first I suffered from sleepless nights, but imagined that that was merely because of the stifling heat, but then slowly my sleep became haunted with punishing dreams; cowering women being raped by Christian men as their husbands are killed, young Saracen children crying for their mothers, dead bodies floating in the stream, the flowing water red with their blood." Robin shook his head violently as if trying to rid the images from mind.

Richard was gazing at Robin and, as if he could relate to what Robin was going through, he nodded his head slowly, abruptly and said softly, "I too, suffer from those dreams. You are not alone."

Locksley took a deep breath and said, "These are our punishments?"

But his King ignored his question and asked instead, "Do you long to return home?"

Robin was caught unawares by the question and had to think before he answered. "Yes, if I can remember where home is." He muttered with a frown, his eyebrows knitting together. He thought of home constantly, not a day went by when he did not think or dream of his fair land of Locksley, but all of a sudden, "home" was very distant away, a faint mere memory that was disappearing from mind just as ink faded on parchment in the sunshine.

"Very soon you will be free, young Robin, and I forever in your debt for you have served me more faithfully than I can ever have imagined."

"Again, I serve only the King's pleasure." Robin answered dutifully.

The King gave a weak smile before pouring himself another cup of wine. He drank quietly and both men fell into a troubled silence as they thought of the long bloody years of the crusade. After a long moment or so, the King interrupted, "I also long to go home."

Robin looked up from his calloused hands which he had been examining absentmindedly and asked, "Where is home?" This was perhaps the one thing he did not know about his king. Of course, the King had many residences, them being Beaumont Palace, the Tower of London and Westminster, and although Robin had served Richard for years and had been a close confidant to the King, he had never known which residence of Richard's was his favourite.

"Poitiers, where my mother keeps court." Robin should have known the answer to that, home to Richard was wherever Eleanor was.

"Why does your Grace prefer your French dominions to that of your English ones?" was another thing that the young lord did not know about his royal master.

"I spent too much time as a lad in France, I suppose. But I find the weather very dull in England, it always rains there. France has beautiful weather!" Richard said grinningly, a dreamy look on his chiselled features.

"That I can agree with, sire." Robin smiled. "But England has long been my home."

There was a long pause.

"When was the last time you were home?" the King asked thoughtfully as he shifted forward in his seat, eager to know more of this lord's home life.

Robin answered straightaway, "eight hundred and sixty days and this morn, sire."

Richard examined him carefully, "And what are your memories of home?"

For a long moment, Robin collected his thoughts of home, before saying, "On a summer's day, my manor at Locksley would smell of fresh hay and at night the smell of rose petals would linger in the chambers. Marian loved my manor."

The King was listening to Robin with a look of utmost interest, the look of a boy who knows what his heart desires. Richard gave another sigh, a sigh of unhappiness. "I envy you, Locksley."

"For owning a small amount of land?" Robin asked incredulously for he was surprised that these words could be uttered by such a man, a king.

Richard laughed sadly, "Nay, you, Locksley, have a home that you can call home and you have a woman that you love, whereas I, on the other hand, have many homes that I cannot call home, and alas, a wife whom I do not love, although I do find that Berengaria is far from an undutiful wife." The King gave a weak smile, "You are lucky to have the Lady Marian."

There was a brief silence where Robin sat wondering where Marian was at this moment in time. His mind was filled with flashbacks. He quickly broke away from his daydreaming and said, "I do not have the Lady Marian any longer."

King Richard looked at him questioningly, he was not sure what Robin meant by this. "What do you mean?"

"I do not longer have the Lady Marian." He repeated before adding, "Marian and I were formally betrothed before I took my leave for the Holy Land, upon finding out, the betrothal was broken off at her behest and she vowed to never set eyes on me again should I leave her. I departed and the love between us was apparently broken. Marian was unmarried and therefore free to wife. Who knows, she may now be married to a lord of your realm with several babes in the noble nursery and running her own household." He smiled sadly at the thought and then dropped his head in melancholy.

Richard watched him for a moment, felt Robin's grief as if it were contagious. "To think of that image hurts you?" he asked gently, his blue eyes gazing at the young soldier.

"Very much." Robin admitted. "It grieves me to think of her thus, for that idyllic image is one that I dream of regularly, but I the great lord that had the honour of becoming her husband." He hung his head in sorrow again.

"I can see you regret leaving her."

"Aye, it was a right stupid thing to do, but I was young and foolish." Robin pointed out to Richard. "To go on crusade was one of the most glorious things I could ever possibly do and, although I loved Marian, love was not something that could have held me back and stop me from joining you, for the love I bare for you, Your Grace, was something stronger." Robin paused, then said, "The love I have for your Grace is immense, and I see no greater honour than that to serve you, but I also see the love that I bare for my Lady Marian, the lady whom I love, the lady who I never displayed my love to."

Richard stroked his gold beard before pointing at Robin and saying, "You want to go home to her, to make amends?"

"Very much, but Marian, she could put a mule to shame for she is a stubborn woman, she would never allow me to make amends, and like I said, my lord, it could be too late, far too late for she may be married."

"Mayhap, she may still be unmarried?" the King suggested.

"Mayhap." Robin agreed with a shrug of the shoulders. "But I may never make it home alive from these lands, sire. The journey itself is a perilous one, it is God's will and God's will alone should I make it back to England alive." He gave a light chuckle, "And even if I make it home alive, I'll have to endure Marian's wrath for the rest of my life."

The King grinned before crossing his arms across his chest and watching Robin intently. "How about I make you an offer?"

"Your Grace?"

Richard sighed before saying formally, "You, Robin, are our most loyal guard, we love you like a son. Your opinion and advice is one that we cherish, and to show our eternal love and gratitude to you, we offer you something that other crusaders would die for."

"Sire?" Robin was now confused.

"A ship is leaving the port of Acre a month today, we offer you a passage with a safe conduct home on that ship, if you accept, and you will go with God speed and be free to seek your lady love. If you decline, then God bless you Robin of Locksley."

Locksley was shocked into silence. He took a while to regain his speech, and once he had found it, he said straight, "No, as tempting as your offer is, sire, I am to decline it. It is my duty to stay and serve the King's pleasure. Should God's Grace be with me, Marian will still be unmarried and she will perhaps wait for that day when I will return home, but for now, I stay and I fight for God wills it."

"Deus vult." King Richard repeated the crusaders motto in Latin while crossing himself.

Criticism is more than welcome, just don't be too harsh. Abuse is definitely unwelcome.

Now, this is the first time in MONTHS that I have posted a fanfiction, I have missed it, if I'm completely honest!

Anyway, back to the story, this is a little re-write of Home, which I was very unhappy with and which has also been re-written twice!

I read over the original work and realised that I wasn't completely happy with Robin and Richard's relationship and also, my knowledge on the Crusades and Richard wasn't as well as it is now. I've added a bit of history into Richard's past, Henry the Young King dying of the bloody flux, Richard becoming heir, history at the start of the crusades, blah blah blah. At the end, there's one line where Richard's telling Robin of his love for him, King's usually referred to themselves as "us" and "we" and "our" when speaking formally, so I added that there at the end. Also, even though it is seen in the film where Robin refers to Richard as "Your Majesty" that title, was never used by the monarch, "Your Grace", "Sire" and "My lord" was the title used by a ruling king in that period, in fact, "Your Majesty" was first used by Henry the eighth, so quite a big jump from 12th century monarchy to 16th century. Hopefully you'll find it a good read, and as always, feed back is big time appreciated.

Also, the title is called "Homeward Bound" because, well firstly the name just came to me, then when I researched the songs lyrics, the lyrics, "Homeward bound, I wish I was, Homeward bound, Home, where my, thought's escaping, Home, where my music's playing, Home, where my, love lies waiting, Silently for me" fitted nicely with the story.

Just a brief little note: I do currently have stories unfinished, especially the latest ones such as The Ballad of the Locksleys'. The truth is, I'm still in the middle of writing that, I'll probably pull the first couple of chapters down and re-write them, but at the moment, I'm busy writing a story which could come before that, which is called Hell Hath No Fury, a story about Robin and Marian before he departed for the Crusades. Please look out for that one in time to come, I've been working for a long time on it!


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